


Green Light Go

by imahira



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Rookies - Morita Masanori & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pern Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pernese Dragons, Canon - Manga, M/M, Mating Flight (Dragonriders of Pern), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imahira/pseuds/imahira
Summary: No dragons were harmed in the creation of this fic.
Relationships: Hiratsuka Taira/Imaoka Shinobu
Kudos: 3





	Green Light Go

**Author's Note:**

> notes about consent in this one, Hiratsuka is... pushy, due to the circumstances and being an entitled prick, but does back off when asked.
> 
> Imaoka ended up pretty creepy but I guess they deserve each other.

The runnerbeasts were the first sign. They didn't startle easy as a rule, but something was startling them now, and he felt it himself in another moment. The wave of wet heat between his legs. For a moment, Imaoka thought he might fall right off. But it was never quite that bad. Just for a second, it felt like it might be.

"Crap," Hiracchi said. "What's it mad about now?"

Imaoka turned to look. The runnerbeast Hiracchi was riding was tossing its head and dancing a little with its front feet.

Hiracchi was probably the least receptive human on the planet to dragon telepathy. Not that that had stopped him from trying to Impress four clutches in a row. He really wasn't a Candidate at all, but the dragons were so uninterested that his presence didn't bother them. Imaoka had thought during the first Impression, and still did, that Hiracchi would be a lot better off if someone made him go take up a Craft and spend his time on that. But nobody had found a way yet to convince Hiracchi to give up on something he'd committed to.

"It's..." Imaoka paused. He'd really rather keep riding. If their animals would just calm down long enough, they could get further away. And then this wouldn't be a problem anymore. "They must've seen something scary. We'd better keep moving."

"Keep moving? Are you nuts?" Hiracchi was already dismounting, a lot more skillfully than usual. "I'm not letting this thing send me flying."

"They're not that—" Imaoka gripped his runnerbeast's neck as it stood up on its back legs. When it dropped onto four feet again, the impact went right through his teeth.

"Break your back, then. See if I care."

Taking another look behind him at the runnerbeast Hiracchi had abandoned, Imaoka decided that climbing off was the best course of action right now. He might actually get thrown if his started hopping around like that.

He looked up into the sky as he hooked both animals' reins up to the long rope that was supposed to be for emergencies only. No circling or soaring dragons. It wasn't like seeing them would help, but it was annoying that he couldn't even be sure where they were. As he finished tying the rope around a tree, Imaoka wondered if they could just walk until they hit the Hold—but then they'd be late, and also have to tell the Holder that someone would have to go pick their runnerbeasts up. And the Weyr would get annoyed too. Which would mean no more using the two of them to run errands instead of dragonriders.

"Don't do that," he called to Hiracchi, who wasn't looking at the runnerbeasts or the sky, and was instead trying to climb up the short slope separating them from the beginning of the Hold's crops.

"Why not?" Hiracchi skidded downward a few inches and tried to lift his foot up over his hands, back to where it had been. Failing at that, he punched the slope as if hoping to make a hole large enough to step into. Then he stopped completely. "Why _not?"_

Now he was looking at the sky. Even Hiracchi had it committed to memory that plants could sometimes be the most dangerous things on Pern.

"It's not Thread," Imaoka said. "It's just you're gonna get lost right away if you go in there. We should stay on the road. Near the runnerbeasts."

Hiracchi slid all the way back down, his boots scraping unpleasantly against the dry ground, and Imaoka looked away politely as he hit the road and rolled onto his back like a beetle. "That's to absorb the shock," he explained, standing up and patting his sides to get the dirt to fall off.

"Oh." Imaoka gave the sky one last glance. Still no dragons anywhere. If he knew which way they were flying, he'd be able to convince himself that walking was the best idea. Runnerbeasts or no. But with nothing, all he could do was stay still and hope they were moving away. "I think we'd better find somewhere that's... You know, it might rain or something."

"Like, the water kind?"

"Yeah. Water."

Hiracchi had arrived in the Weyr with the impression that everybody Weyrbred had the ability to sense Thread. Imaoka had very quickly given up trying to correct him on that front. They did know when Thread was going to fall, after all. Because of the charts, which Hiracchi never paid any attention to. Another reason why no one wanted him on top of a dragon.

"If it rains," Hiracchi said, pleased to be able to show off his Holdbred knowledge, "we better not be under a tree. That's where you're gonna get hit by lightning. Every time."

"I was thinking a cave or something. I'm pretty sure I just saw one."

It was less a cave and more of a hole. Nobody was ever gonna try mining in here. It was enough of a hole to leave a little bit of space between two people, at least. The fact that Imaoka had noticed it and mentally sized it up might have have been the dragons, too. Or maybe just a side effect of being alone with Hiracchi. It turned out to be a few minutes walking, and twice that dragging both runnerbeasts by the rope. Which Imaoka could measure because Hiracchi went on ahead, leaving him to move their transportation, and yelled back excitedly when he found the cave. From there, it took him about the same amount of time to get to the cave, where Hiracchi had already unpacked a few things from his satchel and spread them out across a generous part of the cave's interior. Imaoka knew from experience that this was to be treated as his territory.

He didn't actually mind Hiracchi being that far ahead of him. Being around him was getting to be more and more uncomfortable. In a nice way, but one he had to be really careful not to let on to. Maybe he should've spent more time at the Weyr during flights, getting used to the feeling. But it wasn't like this was the first time he'd felt like this around Hiracchi. It was a lot stronger now, and harder to ignore, but—

"I got my stuff all laid out," Hiracchi called. "Don't sit on it."

There was a much shorter tree near the cave than the first one he'd tied the runnerbeasts to, and Imaoka was reminded of Hiracchi's warning about lightning. It was a good thing dragonflight didn't have the same effect on animals as on humans, he thought, tying the rope as solidly as he knew how. If it did they might just pull the tree up, roots and all.

"I don't think it's gonna rain," he explained, carefully navigating around the edges of Hiracchi's territory on the cave's floor. "It's just to be safe. We can start moving again once they calm down."

"Hey," Hiracchi said, with the air of someone making a great discovery. "My dick's hard."

So much for the cave's walls helping at all. "Okay."

"Actually—" he seemed deep in thought now— "it has been for a while."

So at least one part of him could pick on dragon communication. Apparently the brain took a while to catch up.

"It's a mating flight. One of the greens is having hers and I guess they went too far into Holder territory. That's why the runnerbeasts are acting up." Imaoka looked out of the cave. They were still acting up, all right.

"Oh." Hiracchi was silent for a moment. "You know, I thought that was supposed to happen all the time, but I've never even seen one."

Imaoka winced. That would be his doing. "Not all the time," he said. "We'd never get any work done."

"But it messes people up when they come this far out, right?"

"Just younger kids, usually. Once you get older you can control yourself."

"Oh," said Hiracchi, taking his hand out of his pants hurriedly. "No, yeah, definitely. Best thing about being grown up."

Imaoka leaned very hard against the cave's wall, trying to turn his entire body away. He shouldn't have humored Hiracchi about the stupid territory. There were so many other places he could be sitting. "So we can just wait it out and then keep moving."

There was an ominous silence.

"Or," Hiracchi said, "or I could just—"

  
"No." He didn't mean to snap it, but he was tired. The runnerbeasts were easier to deal with than his best friend. Even with their hooves clattering and their heads jerking in every direction, they were easier to lead the right way. They could be left alone for two minutes at a time. They probably understood instructions better, too.

"Says who? You?"

"Yeah, me. I don't wanna watch that." Imaoka's knees couldn't squeeze together any harder. He dug his fingers into the fabric gathering between his legs. It helped a little. Not as much as he'd hoped.

"Go sit at the back of the damn cave then," Hiracchi said, querulously. "I'm invoking my rights."

"What rights?"

"My rights as a free Pernese man and future dragonrider!" His hand was stalled at the front of his pants now. If there was one thing that could get his mind off sex it was the chance to argue back. "We've got that Weyr free love thing going on."

"There's still something called manners."

"Eat dragon dung." His verdict delivered, Hiracchi returned to the matter at hand.

"Charter doesn't say anything about jerking it in public."

"This isn't public, it's just you!"

"Well, I'm not going into the back and getting eaten by tunnel snakes just so you can touch yourself in private." 

Ideally, Hiracchi would give up on the whole thing and they could get back to the Weyr with nothing more than a little awkwardness. He'd probably complain for a few days, but he never held onto a grudge very long once the problem was removed. He'd be too busy complaining about new things.

Ideally.

 _"My_ tunnel snake," Hiracchi began, "is—"

"Don't even finish that sentence."

Hiracchi subsided. Which probably meant he hadn't thought up anything clever for the second half. Within seconds he was onto a subject only slightly less awkward. "How come I've never been around for one of these? That's really weird. And you haven't either, right? ‘Cause you don't smell any more experienced than me."

"I dunno." Imaoka stared at the ground in front of him. "Luck. I guess I haven't either. It's random, so it's really just about luck. Or chance."

"You're acting all suspicious. I can smell when people are lying, you know."

Except for every other time I've done this and pulled this off, Imaoka thought. Out loud, he said, "Well, you're not Weyrbred. So it is lucky, right? It'd be stressful if you saw, um, the kinds of... things... that happen. During mating flights."

"The blood of the dragon flows within me," Hiracchi said. Whatever that meant, he was entirely serious about it.

"Oh," said Imaoka. 

"That means I get things. I was born a dragon man. In here." He thumped his chest, on the side he'd once explained, very earnestly, housed the kidney. "I'm as tuned in to the dragons as any man born in a Weyr. I'm one of you."

"Oh."

"Hey." He perked up suddenly. He always did when he got a really terrible idea. "You felt it too, right?"

"Mmm," Imaoka said, trying vainly to put off what he knew was coming. "A little."

"So," Hiracchi said, taking his arm excitedly, "that makes everything way easier!" He was very close all of a sudden.

Imaoka put a restraining hand on his arm. "That's not how we do things in Weyrs."

"I thought you all just did whatever."

"Not everybody does. You wanna ride a bronze, right? They don't like mating with greens who have guy riders. They have preferences. And so do their riders."

"I don't have a bronze _yet!"_ He made a grab and Imaoka swatted his hand back.

"If I let you do this you're gonna be pissed at me later!" He was the one who'd be pissed at himself, but it was easier to keep protesting if he thought of it like that.

"Nooo, I won't." Hiracchi was starting to work up to the whine he only broke out when he felt especially overworked or starved of the best cut of meat. "I'll write it down. I'll scribble something in the dirt and you remind me later."

"You can't write and I can't read," Imaoka said as firmly as he could.

"Wait. Are you saying you don't wanna at _all?_ With _me?"_ Not only was he gaping now with genuine shock, he was wilting. He did it with as much energy as he did everything else, just in reverse somehow.

Making eye contact was such a mistake. "That's... not exactly what I'm saying. It's just, it'd be awkward. Anyway, I'm not..." Imaoka looked away again. "You... know, right? You weren't born in the Weyr, but everybody from there knows. I didn't want to bring it up, ‘cause... I mean, no one ever talks about it but it's kind of, like, nice, thinking that you're not thinking about it. When you talk to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm different from you. And from other guys."

"Yeah, I'll say."

"I mean my body," Imaoka said, starting to feel genuinely annoyed.

"Oh, that," said Hiracchi. "Yeah, whatever. C'mon, I'm gonna explode over here."

"This isn't a question of ‘whatever'!"

"I just wanna get laid," Hiracchi whined, sitting back on his heels. "You keep talking about stupid stuff I don't care about, and I think you're enjoying this!"

"What I'm saying is, whether you want a girl, or you want a guy, I'm not really gonna be what you're looking for!"

"Who cares? You're just as fucking annoying both ways."

"And I don't want you regretting this when you're back to normal."

"Why do you think I moved to a fuckin' Weyr in the first place? I heard about that casual sex lifestyle and I wanted in!"

Exactly what Imaoka didn't need to hear. "I said no."

"Fine!" Hiracchi threw his hands up in an ‘I'm not touching' gesture. "Don't come crying to me when you explode."

"I'm not gonna explode."

As he watched Hiracchi lie down and get back to business, with a fake enthusiasm obviously for his benefit, he actually thought he might. He'd only had this dream about a hundred thousand times.

"This is great," Hiracchi announced. "I've always wanted to do this. Jerkin' it in a cave."

It wasn't even a nice cave. No view except the runnerbeasts, who weren't enjoying themselves either. They just couldn't run away. Imaoka didn't know anything about Farmcraft, but the ground didn't look like anything you'd want to put seeds in. Not dark brown, but a bunch of different light browns. All crumbly and gross no matter which brown it was. The only thing more pathetic than Hiracchi lying in the dirt pretending to enjoy this was Imaoka leaning against a dirt wall, pretending not to want him.

Somewhere in the last few Turns he'd really started to hate dragons. He should've been the one born in a Hold. Then they never would've met, and Hiracchi might even have his dragon by now. He could've been civilized if he was Weyrbred.

"I'm really getting back to nature."

It was the sounds he was making that were especially killing Imaoka. They were so completely fake, but somehow listening was worse than whatever the dragons were doing. It was like his body wanted him to know that every single thing Hiracchi did was always going to be his favorite thing. The dumbest things were enough to make him act stupid and jealous and possessive. Like a moody gold rider. It was like a bad joke. Thinking about Hiracchi being a normal person with a dragon didn't make him any happier. He liked the Hiracchi he had right here.

"It's so healing in here. Everyone should try this once in his life." Hiracchi sighed heavily and then sneezed on the dust it stirred up. "How come more people don't live out here, in the fresh air?"

"‘Cause everybody gets eaten by Thread when they try."

Hiracchi thought about that for a second. "But still."

"Hiracchi."

"Busy."

"Can you either shut up," Imaoka said, "or get back over here."

"You shut up."

"Fine." Imaoka looked down at the gross dirt piled around his knees. It was embarrassing how disappointed he was. After all that telling him no.

They let you watch at the Hatching Grounds. You could sit up in the stands and look at other people getting what they want. If you hadn't gotten picked as a Candidate, nobody was gonna make you come down during the Hatching and stand in front of the dragons.

From what he remembered, anyway. He stopped going once he was old enough to Impress. But anyway, it didn't work like that with everything. Watching without taking was _weird._ Hiracchi was already weird enough, with how much he liked being watched. Even he had to have some kind of limit.

If Hiracchi had told him to go away and then come back, Imaoka would be back in a second. Being more desperate than Hiracchi was probably some kind of achievement. Not the kind you got to with hard work. That kind of pathetic had to be all natural.

"You mean for _sex,_ " Hiracchi said, right in his ear suddenly, making him jump. "‘Cause I'm not gonna shut up if it's that. Not possible."

"I didn't say to do both." Imaoka rubbed his ear. Like that would help. "I said or."

"How do your pants come off?" He was already halfway through it.

Imaoka's attempts to help with the pants only made it take longer. Finally he just kicked. They were too damn hot. His whole body was hot. Everything was hot.

"Wow!" Hiracchi's voice was so awed that it would've been funny if it wasn't exactly how Imaoka was feeling too. "See, this way's better already."

"Yeah," Imaoka admitted. Just being pushed up against a dirt wall, naked below the waist, was better. Because it was Hiracchi doing it. And he was hot in all the right places.

Hiracchi grinned, and it was like a sun lighting up the whole cave. "Don't worry." His voice was unusually solemn. "I'm an expert. I know where everything goes."

"Your hands are so warm," Imaoka said, without meaning to.

"My inner dragon." Again, completely serious.

"Not in there."

"How come?"

"Just don't. Here, just—put it between my legs."

"That's what I'm—oh. Okay. _Yeah,_ okay."

That turned out to be an acceptable alternative.

It was true that Hiracchi didn't know how to have sex and shut up at the same time, but Imaoka had never expected him to. He had thought—he'd thought a _lot_ —that Hiracchi would be pretty good at the part that was just moving without thinking. And that was true too, or else he was so pathetic that anything felt good as long as it was Hiracchi doing it. Maybe both. Or maybe it was the dragon heat. But it was good enough that Imaoka didn't think about dragons again for a while, and for a Weyrbred boy, that meant it was pretty damn good.

The second blast felt different. It was identifiable as dragon telepathy this time, even without the whinnying from outside the cave. Instead of anything physical, it felt like an uncomfortable level of emotion. Like a stranger having a bad day and picking you to unload on.

Actually, it was a little bit like the first time he met Hiracchi. So maybe it was the kind of feeling Imaoka could get used to. He was feeling pretty full of his own emotions at the moment, though, so he gritted his teeth and tried to push the new ones out. Hiracchi was still holding onto one of his arms, and he didn't want that flooded out of his brain for anything.

"Ugh!" Hiracchi shuddered next to him. "What _is_ that?"

"That's the mating flight again," Imaoka said. He looked up at the cave ceiling. "Or maybe a different one. It felt like the end. I don't know if they're supposed to take that long."

"It's awful," Hiracchi said vehemently. "Like someone reaching into my brain and wiggling everything around."

"That's what dragons do," Imaoka said. He looked at him curiously. "I thought you wanted that. Lots of lonely people do."

"I'm not lonely!" Hiracchi let go of his arm, like he'd just noticed he was holding it. "I just didn't know it would feel like that. I never felt anything inside my head before."

"That's dragon telepathy," Imaoka said patiently. "It's how they talk to you. But this is just a general... blast, or something. With their riders, they use words. Dragons and their riders can pretty much feel what the other's feeling. All the time."

"I didn't know it felt like that," Hiracchi muttered. "All the _time?_ "

"They spend a lot of time having thoughts," Imaoka said. "How did you not think about this? Why have you been trying to be a rider for—" he counted— " _seven_ Turns now?"

"Their outfits are so cool," Hiracchi protested. "They get to go wherever they want. Plus I thought Weyrpeople got laid a lot more."

"Well," Imaoka said, "maybe you should just get a—" He stopped. He didn't really want Hiracchi to move to a Crafthall. Even if someone was willing to take him, Imaoka wasn't going to be any good at whatever Craft it was.

"Get a dragon," Hiracchi said, nodding. "It's in the works. The next Impression is gonna be my time."

"You _just_ said feeling a dragon in your head was awful."

"Yeah, but the..." Hiracchi paused. His jaw sagged a little. "It'd be like that all the time? For _me?"_

Imaoka counted to three, slowly. "Yes," he said, calmly. "That's how the dragon bond works."

"I could pick a really dumb dragon," Hiracchi suggested. "It could hang out in the fields and eat until I need it for important stuff."

"Why are you so damn mean?" To Imaoka's own surprise, nineteen years of Weyr life came bubbling to the surface. "They're alive, you know. You can't just shove them in a back cavern when you get bored with them."

"But I've gotta have a dragon." He looked miserable suddenly. "I need one. I can't be a rider without a dragon."

"I hope you do Impress one, and I hope it's smarter than you are."

"I don't want something inside my head! What's so bad about that?That's why _you_ never tried."

"Yeah," Imaoka admitted. "I guess so."

"And how much you like being boring."

Imaoka looked down. "And I didn't wanna find out which color would be interested in me."

"You think you'd get stuck with a blue?" Hiracchi seemed to study him up and down for a second. "You have kind of a brown aura. I bet you'd get a brown. That's the saddest place to be, ‘cause you were almost a bronze but not quite. Plus brown is the dullest color. Your eyes are brown, you know."

"So are yours." Imaoka mentally shelved yet another subject to be explained more carefully to Hiracchi when he had the patience. It was a big shelf.

"My eyes are a glittering bronze."

"That's the mirror. They make glass ones now."

"Bronze," Hiracchi repeated. "The color of a future Weyrleader's dragon."

Imaoka rolled over suddenly. "Fine. Whatever."

"Oh, now what?! What do you have against bronze dragons?"

"They like queen dragons." Imaoka stared at the wall. "And girl riders."

It wasn't like it mattered. He always knew that if he ever let this happen, it'd end up just like _this._ Because Hiracchi only hung out with him because they happened to wind up near each other, and everything he really wanted was the opposite of Imaoka.

"You know, you'd be so much better off in a Crafthall. Or just being a regular farmer somewhere. But nobody can get that through your head."

"Yeah, I bet you'd be real happy having me out of the way."

"I wouldn't, that's the whole problem!" Turned back around to look at him was a mistake, but sometimes Hiracchi was so dumb it was hard to believe unless you actually watched his mouth moving. "You're the one who doesn't care about me. You just want your stupid dragon to fly a Queen so you can be Weyrmates with her stupid rider. And now you know you can come bother me every time there's a flight, and I'll let you do whatever you want."

"It's called Weyr free love."

"No, it's not," Imaoka muttered. "And I don't like it. Not for you. I don't want you to have a dragon, either. You'd take horrible care of it, and I'd feel bad for it, and I'd still hate it."

"But if I don't get a dragon, what was the point of any of this? What did I spend all this time in the Weyr for?" A slow, steady drooping suddenly caught up with him, and he looked crestfallen. "I came here when I was twelve."

"Hiracchi," said Imaoka. "Oh, honey." The word came out by accident. It was how riders talked to their dragons, patting them on the nose and talking absently as they ate or bathed in the sun. He'd heard it a thousand times carrying their gear or delivering a message from a non-rider elsewhere in the caves.

Maybe Hiracchi was reminded of riders with their dragons too, because he made a sudden dive and buried his head in Imaoka's stomach, like a new hatchling just learning how to ask for attention.

"Don't cry on my shirt," Imaoka begged, coming up into a seated position. "Don't bite! You're worse than a dragon."

"I hate dragons!" Hiracchi wailed into his lap. "They went inside my head and messed everything all up and I didn't even get to wear the outfit!"

"You'll feel better when this wears off." Imaoka tried to pat him in a soothing way and ended up petting his shoulder blades awkwardly.

"Shut up. I hate you. I hate everything about Weyrs. Don't stop, what are you stopping for?" 

Imaoka kept petting him and reflected that at least dragons could be trained. Hiracchi's arms wrapped around his waist like a pair of clinging vines.

"Aren't you a little embarrassed to be acting like this at your age?" It wasn't like he minded having him here, but he'd never gotten much better at handling him when he was really in tantrum mode.

Hiracchi stretched out flat on the ground and kicked his legs a few times to emphasize how serious his emotions were. He was rapidly dropping from dragon level to toddler level.

"Hiracchi. Sweetheart. Come on."

"Shut up! I'm allowed to be mad!"

"Can't you be mad like an adult? A human adult?"

"I don't care. It's just you here."

"Why do you have to get so sad?" Imaoka said, almost to himself. But at the same time he knew it was just another reason he'd gotten so attached. He didn't know any humans who acted so intense about everything.

"I'm dealing with my brain getting invaded. And now it turns out sex does it too. How'm I supposed to be popular if it has to feel like that every time I'm with someone?"

"What are you talking about? Sex does what?"

"You know! It felt like we—" Hiracchi's back froze. "Nothing. Nothing happened."

"You felt connected?" Imaoka ran a hand back up to his shoulder.

"No! Go away! Shut up!" His arms squeezed so tight around Imaoka's waist that Imaoka wondered if his top ribs might just squeeze off on their own and separate from his bottom half.

"Ow. Let _go._ That's not telepathy." Imaoka sighed. Were all Holdbred people like this about sex? "I knew you'd have way too many feelings. That's why I've been keeping you away when the females go up. I didn't want you around anyone else if..." He motioned vaguely to their entire situation. "...If something like this happened." 

"Wait a minute, they've been sending me all over because you asked them to?! I thought you were on the bottom rung of everything."

"They're not in charge of my whole life," Imaoka said. He was starting to get annoyed again. "I'm allowed to volunteer for things."

"But I outrank you, right?" Hiracchi's voice was anxious.

"Why do you care so much? Would we stop being friends if I did?"

"I'm just making sure!" His voice—his whole body, actually—was starting to tremble worse than when he'd been crying. "I mean, if I didn't then how come you're even here?"

"You know I'm not your servant, right? I just like being around you. We're friends."

Hiracchi was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again it was so subdued that it was almost muffled in Imaoka's lap. "You're sure you like me?"

"What do you think you're in my lap for?"

"You could be faking it. To benefit from my status."

Imaoka sighed again. "There's so much going on in your head, but none of it has anything to do with reality."

"You could be!"

"You're kind of just a fake Candidate no one can get rid of. I don't think you fit into the hierarchy anywhere." Not after he'd been doing staff work for seven Turns, at least. Anyone else would have resigned themselves to working at the Weyr or gone back home by now. But Hiracchi refused to resign himself to anything, and Imaoka didn't want him going anywhere. "It's not fair we were born in different places," he said wistfully, reminded again that staying at the Weyr to do basic staff work was the last thing Hiracchi would ever choose. "I could've known you our whole lives. But instead I just get seven Turns. I think I'm probably gonna die when you go away, you know."

"Really? How fast?"

He looked down to see Hiracchi's head turned upwards, eyes wide with interest. No tears, at least.

"You might be the worst person on this whole planet," Imaoka said, pushing his face back down.

"And you're the one playing—oof—twisted games with my virginity." Hiracchi pulled his head back up and got on his hands and knees to deliver his lecture better. "You're sick. I could've gotten laid by now if you weren't keeping me on ice."

"I wasn't stopping you. You don't need a mating flight to have sex."

"No one wants to! They're all, 'I got laid five times yesterday during the queen's flight, now I have all this work to make up. Go away, Hiratsuka.' It's disgusting. It's like they've all been neutered. Someone oughtta make up a teaching song warning off every little Hold kid who's dreaming of freedom in the Weyrs."

"We'll actually get way more Candidates if you tell everyone we can get off five times in one day." Maybe he belonged in a Crafthall after all. Imaoka looked away, first into the back of the dark, tiny cave, and then out to where the runnerbeasts were waiting. Along with the rest of the world. "Hiracchi, you know you're too old now to Impress anything, don't you?"

Hiracchi's lower lip started to wobble. Imaoka knew before he even looked back.

"Don't cry again. Please." He must have heard it from someone before. Impressing a dragon was about turning from one into two into one. Grownups already had a full person inside their heads. There wasn't any room left for a dragon to fit inside.

And Hiracchi never had any room to begin with. Everything inside his head was too big and too loud and too rigid to let a whole other mind squeeze inside. That was why nobody'd ever asked him to be a Candidate. He'd started out a bad option, and now he was an impossible one.

"Maybe they're the ones who're too young to Impress me!" Hiracchi got his lip under control with a powerful grimace. "And maybe I'm just fine without one!"

"Where are you gonna go?" There was no way he could stay in the Weyr. Imaoka knew that, suddenly. Not now that it'd all been a waste.

"The people need music." Hiracchi tried to shift into a noble expression, but wound up in a gentler grimace that looked more confused than anything. "Or... maybe food or something. Whichever Hall's closer."

Imaoka had thought a lot about where Hiracchi would be better off, but he'd never thought about where Hiracchi would actually want to go. Because he couldn't imagine anything for himself that wasn't Weyr life. And he didn't want to picture Hiracchi without him.

If Hiracchi was really leaving, there was only one thing he could do. It was obvious now. "You can't be alone."

"Wandering Harpers are always alone. It's the rule."

"You can barely ride a runnerbeast." The mental image of him trying to ride and strum a guitar at the same time was both charming and horrifying enough to make Imaoka grab his arm. "You're not going anywhere alone. And you have to ride in front of me."

Hiracchi looked down at his arm, clearly pondering the same idea. "You can ride near me. Over on the side. I have to enter the scene as the main course."

"Don't even try it. It's not gonna be cool. You'll hurt yourself."

"You don't have to come if all you're gonna do is complain!"

"Yes, I do," Imaoka said. "I'm gonna be your dragon."

_"What?"_

"The one who knows everything about you. So you don't get lonely. If you let me be around you all the time."

Hiracchi was silent. For a second it looked like he was thinking about hiding his face again—and it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he did, but it would probably mean no.

"Not exactly like a dragon," Imaoka added, in case he was still thinking about the second blast from the green's mating flight. "Just a little bit."

"Fine," Hiracchi said gruffly, looking mostly past Imaoka toward the mouth of the cave. "I don't want something going in my head and knowing stuff. You're already there all the time anyway."

"And you can ride me. Whenever you want."

"You can't tell me I'm embarrassing," Hiracchi said, very slowly, "ever again."

He got observant at the worst times.

"Fine. I won't. Until you do something worse."

"Shut up. I'm tired now." Hiracchi flopped onto his belly. Imaoka watched a gentle cloud of dust billow upwards in the vague outline of his upper body.

"How tired are you?"

"Dead."

Imaoka squished a spider that was crawling on Hiracchi's bare shoulder and felt a momentary concern when he didn't seem to notice. "Hiracchi," he said, wiping its remains off and sliding closer. That was going to have to wait. "Are you going to sleep, or are you just being shy?"

"I told you, I'm dead."

"If you're gonna be shy, then I should just finish saying everything at once. Can you not sleep with anybody else?"

"I'm not shy. How much talking do you even need to do today?"

"I don't want you to be with anyone else. I wanna be Weyrmates. Or—or whatever that's called in other places. Wherever we go, I want you to be just mine."

"You already took my virginity," Hiracchi groaned into his own folded arms. "Whatever. Call it whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Stop talking at me."

"I'm done talking."

"Good."

Hiracchi settled, his face turned away where it was resting on his arms, and was silent for about eight seconds. Imaoka counted each second off in his head. He had a little experience with this now.

"Oh!" On the ninth second, Hiracchi's head came up, finally noticing Imaoka's hand on his. Then he glanced nervously at the mouth of the cave. "I didn't feel any dragon anything. Are they about to do that again?"

"You just do this to me on your own." Imaoka put an arm around Hiracchi's neck and tried to see if he'd let himself be pulled, which he did.

It turned out he wasn't all that tired yet.

The snoring was less cute, but the drooling was very cute. If Hiracchi could see himself asleep, he'd have to agree that he was adorable. Their message was definitely going to be beyond late, but if anyone further into the Hold had felt that mating flight, they'd agree it was for the best not to have anyone from the Weyr intruding during such a delicate moment.

The message wasn't very important, anyway. Hiracchi had definitely forgotten it by now, and truthfully, Imaoka wasn't sure he'd ever known what it was in the first place.


End file.
